


Somebody Who Loves Me

by warmheartseek



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: AIDS Crisis Mention, Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, No Beta Read We Post Like Men, Oblivious Richie Tozier, Post-Canon, Post-Defeat of Pennywise (The First Time), Young Eddie and Richie, angst if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 08:35:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21194747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmheartseek/pseuds/warmheartseek
Summary: sal, light of my life, this one's for you. I promise young love and I DELIVER!(eddie loves whitney houston and ya'll can pry that out of my cold, dead hands.)





	Somebody Who Loves Me

Eddie Kaspbrak and the terrible, horrible, no good, very fucking bad day. 

He was exhausted, he was soaked in shit water, and his arm was killing. At least the demon clown that lived in the sewers of his home town was dealt with for now, not many twelve year olds could say that about their summer vacations. The only thing Eddie could think about was dragging his sorry ass home and boiling the first layer of his skin clean off with as long a shower as he could manage before his mother got suspicious. 

With the rest of the Losers Club having gone their separate ways to repress the day’s events however they saw fit, Eddie walked alone, alongside his bike in the baking sun. Actually riding the thing felt like a chore, and he might have enjoyed the sunlight had it not been baking sewer remnants into his hair. Still, Eddie took the long way home out of habit, to keep away from his mother and her endless barrage of gazebo pills. God, he’d have to come home to her like this, practically a walking disease parade. 

_ ‘Might just take my chances with the fuckin’ clown,’ _ Eddie thought to himself. 

He decided to cross over the bridge for the shade and cover it provided, because the last thing Eddie needed was anyone else seeing him look like a literal shit show. He trudged along, listening to the  _ click, click, click _ , of his bike’s sticky chain and weighing the odds of sneaking into his own room unseen. 

Eddie looked ahead to see Richie was crouched next to a fence, past the covered area of the bridge, looking determined and oblivious to anything else around him. Eddie entertained the idea of sneaking up behind Richie and putting on his best Pennywise voice to scare the shit out of his friend, but he decided getting punched in the nose was very low on his to-do list after the day he’d had. Eddie could see the small pocket knife in his hand, he wasn’t close enough but he pictured the small wrinkle in Richie’s forehead that appeared whenever he was intensely focused on a task.

‘ _ Probably carving something stupid about calling my mom for a good time,’  _ Eddie rolled his eyes despite the fact there was no way Richie would see it. 

It wasn’t worth it to try and catch up to Richie, it was hot and Eddie was tired, he could settle for snooping when he got closer. 

Sure enough Richie stood up to take a look at his handy work, a soft smile graced his lips and it took Eddie a moment to stop his heart from skipping. His inhaler, he must need his inhaler and that was the only explanation, surely the feeling in his chest had nothing to do with the way Richie’s expression warmed Eddie’s cheeks more than the afternoon sun. He looked, well, the only word that came to mind was--

“Lovestruck.” 

Eddie mumbled under his breath, loud enough only for himself. The word left a heavy, sick feeling in his stomach different than the one that’d been there from inhaling sewer water for the better part of an hour. It was an itchy, uncomfortable word, and Eddie couldn’t think why seeing his friend look so goddamn lovesick would make him feel like that. 

Eddie was glad he’d stayed back, eager and terrified all at once to see what Richie had carved into Derry’s notorious kissing bridge. The meaning hadn’t been lost on Eddie either, this bridge had a reputation beyond just the high school kids that came to do dirty things in the backs of their dirty cars. It was a place people carved the initials of people they loved, hoping with blind faith that they’d always be together, or stupidly believing they would be. Eddie found himself walking even slower the closer he got, his mouth becoming terribly dry for seemingly no reason. His eyes jumped around for a second before they hit on the freshest carving, standing out boldly among all the others now faded and worn. 

**R+E**

It was plain as day, no mistaking where Richie had been crouched only minutes ago. Eddie blinked once, twice, a thousand times like a layer of sleep that just won’t clear itself no matter how many times you’ve rubbed at your eyes. The whirlwind of feelings in Eddie’s chest almost knocked the wind out of him. 

_ Relief.  _

_ Longing.  _

_ Doubt.  _

_ Fear.  _

All blended like one bitter cocktail he thought might drown him. Defeating a demonic clown? Rough day. Feeling a rush of terrifying excitement at seeing your best friend carve yours and his initials into the town’s kissing bridge? Eddie wasn’t sure he could quantify that level of fucked. 

Eddie hardly remembered riding home, only the burn in his lungs when he reached the front steps of his house. His inhaler wasn’t any use, it’d been as soaked in shit water as Eddie was, not that he had any mind to use it when his entire mind was clogged with thoughts of Richie. Maybe he was being stupid, people had E name,  _ lots  _ of people in Derry must have E names. Eddie didn’t own the fucking monopoly on E names so why couldn’t he think of anything besides his and Richie’s name being wrapped up so neatly in that shaky little carving? Did he  _ want  _ it to be his name? No, now he was really being stupid. It’s Richie, trash mouthed, biggest-dickwad-in-town Richie. 

Richie, who made disgusting jokes about Eddie’s mom and always said the wrong things at the wrong time. 

Richie, who’d take every chance to push all of Eddie’s buttons because he knew Eddie better than he knew himself. 

Richie, the only one who could ever make Eddie smile when he’d had a bad day, or comfort him when he’d been thrown two stories from a hole in the floor by an imaginary leper. 

Eddie’s best friend, his tether, the last person on earth he could ever stand to lose if he was wrong about whose initials were carved in that heart on the kissing bridge. If they were his,  _ god _ if they were his. 

Eddie shut his bedroom door and leaned heavily against the other side. He was grateful his mom was out because he really wasn’t ready to deal with the storm of emotions he was feeling on top of her questioning. Eddie had plenty of his own questions, about what it all meant for him and Richie. His mother had made her opinion on the matter very clear. All she did was scour the news for stories of disease, spending hours searching for something else to be afraid of and to inflict that same fear on her son. The latest was a doozy. 

Men, thousands of them dying in awful, lonely ways. Their lovers being thrust into the spotlight while crying over emaciated frames in under kept hospitals. 

Eddie couldn’t get the images out of his head. His stupid, overprotective mother had made him watch an hour long special on local television about the dangers of these men and their, “lifestyle choice.” Now the thoughts rattled on in his head, thoughts so upsetting it made Eddie think he really would rather take his chances with the fucking clown again. He couldn’t pluck one coherent thought from the scrambled bunch and he wanted desperately for his mind to shut up for two goddamn seconds just so he could catch his breath. 

Eddie stumbled into the center of his room, looking around for something to distract him. It was summer so homework was out of the question and he could hardly have hobbies under his mother’s watchful eye. After a moment his eyes wandered to the lone cassette tape still sitting face up on his side table, its peeling piece of tape with the song’s title glaring at Eddie in his panic. Bev had let him borrow it, in fact she’d introduced him to Whitney Houston’s music and Eddie found it was one of his favorites now. He walked over to the tape and clicked it into the slot of his cassette player. As if anyone would be around to see him, Eddie took a quick look out the window where his bedside table faced but all he could see was the overgrown backyard and beyond that a sagging fence desperately in need of repair. 

Eddie could relate. 

His hand was trembling when he reached for the volume dial, turning it up just a few points past acceptably loud. If his mother was at the pharmacy like usual, Eddie knew she wouldn’t be back for some time. The lead in of the song’s synthetic beat clattered off his walls, behind his teeth, it was perfect. 

_ Clock strikes upon the hour and the sun begins to fade, still enough time to figure out how to chase my blues away…  _

Eddie stood by the cassette player with his finger still hovering over its buttons, already something like an itch in his legs when the steady rhythm filled his room. 

_ I’ve done alright up till now, it’s the light of day that shows me how and when the night falls, my loneliness calls… _

His left heel was bouncing, begging for movement. The idea of his heart racing from something besides panic or fear was a novel fucking concept that day. Her voice was so strong and sure, Eddie wanted more than anything to feel like that. 

_ Oh, I wanna dance with somebody, I wanna feel the heat with somebody _

_ Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me… _

Eddie wouldn’t call it dancing and he sure as shit didn’t think anyone in their right mind would. It was more like the flailing of spindly limbs, a brief period of clambering onto his bed to jump and spin until the blood in his head was rushing. He didn’t know what it was or what to call it, all that mattered is that it was something. The music was loud enough to drown his thoughts, his lungs finally burned in a good way for the first time since suddenly developing asthma after his mother reminded him he’d had it all his life. 

_ I need a man who’ll take a chance on a love that burns hot enough to last, so when the night falls, my loneliness calls.  _

Eddie could feel himself smile, a cheek-aching smile that started at the corners of his mouth and warmed its way into his bones, even the broken one under his now less-than-white cast. He couldn’t tell where his voice started and the music ended, he didn’t even remember the moment he started singing or when he’d closed his eyes. Eddie couldn’t describe the sense of relief he felt with his head now empty of thoughts. There was a word he’d heard at school once--colic? Catholic? Chiropractic? 

Cathartic. 

The music so loud he couldn’t hear himself think even if he wanted to, his heart racing with excitement about whatever the future held to mask the bitter dread that’d been there before. Eddie was having the dictionary definition of a cathartic experience. 

_ Don’tcha wanna dance, say you wanna dance with somebody who loves me.  _

Eddie’s ears still rang when the music faded out and the tape clicked to signal its end, his slight frame vibrating with residual rhythm. He was breathing heavy, sweat had broken out onto his forehead at some point. Eddie let his entire body collapse into a seated position in the middle of his bed, legs now criss-crossed and tired. He opened his eyes and coughed a few times for good measure, staying quiet for a moment to listen for any noise in the house as if his mother would have sat idly by while he shook the whole place with synthetic pop music. For the time being he was satisfied, swinging his legs over the side of his bed and grimacing a bit when they hovered over the carpet. One day, he’d hit that growth spurt and everyone who’d ever stuffed him into the most convenient locker would see. 

When he glanced over to his window, Eddie suddenly decided his absent growth spurt was the least of his worries. 

“ _ RICHIE?!”  _

The window was wide open and Richie stood with his chin cradled in his palm, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. 

“Hey there superstar, why’d you stop?”

Eddie moved too fast to be worried about Richie seeing his blush. He was a blur of small fists pounding into whatever part of Richie he could reach through the window’s opening, not that it was much when Richie backed away into the yard leaving Eddie practically dangling with half his body still in the room and half still swinging at his smug best friend. 

“Get over here you fucking asshole, I swear to god I’m gonna kill you,” Eddie spat while he tried to clamber through the open window. 

His broken wrist made the entire process that much harder but eventually Eddie made it through, easily chasing Richie down in the very small expanse of his overgrown backyard. Eddie was small but not much smaller than Richie, he jumped onto Richie’s back and it sent them both to the ground. 

Eddie was yelling now, “Why were you at my fucking window?! What the  _ fuck  _ Richie, you don’t just snoop into people’s houses like that!” 

Eddie had Richie’s shoulders pinned but he was easily thrown off, Richie grabbing at clumps of dirt and grass while he scrambled backwards. He held up placating hands and fixed his skewed glasses when Eddie made another move to lunge at him. 

“Woah, dude chill out for one fucking second. I’m sorry, alright? Jesus Christ, now will you stop trying to disfigure me with your shit stained club hand?”    
  
Richie gestured to his own face and spit out a small bit of blood from where Eddie’s cast had cut his lip. He touched it and winced but Eddie didn’t feel bad. 

“Oh ya, you really think sorry’s gonna cut it, trashmouth?”

Eddie brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins. 

“I can’t believe you saw that,” Eddie whispered more to himself than to Richie. 

He wanted to cry but didn’t want to give Richie one more thing to hold over his head. 

“C’mon Eds,” Richie scooted next to Eddie, “it wasn’t  _ that _ bad.”

“Really? You think knowing that you saw every second of me screaming my lungs out to Whitney Houston isn't, ‘ _ that  _ bad’?” 

“If it helps, I didn’t see every second,” Richie dropped to a mumble and shrugged, “missed the very beginning.” 

“Beep, fucking beep, Richie.” 

Eddie stood up and marched back to his house. He didn’t think about what he looked like scrambling back through his bedroom window, enough embarrassment blood had been shed and he was fresh out of fucks for the day. He had vaguely registered Richie coming after him until he watched that curly mop poke through his window. The way Richie’s gangly legs tucked themselves up to get through reminded Eddie too much of Pennywise coming out of that goddamn fridge. 

Richie tumbled through the window, landing uncomfortably on his back. 

“Mother _ fucker _ that hurt.” 

Eddie scoffed, “You deserved that.” 

Richie sat up, rubbing at the back of his head, “Oh, so the busted lip wasn’t enough payback? That’s cold, Eds.”

Eddie ignored him and snatched the small first aid kit from his bedside table. The one good thing that came from his mother’s constant paranoia was her stash of those kits in every cabinet and desk drawer in the house. He grabbed a small alcohol wipe and sat in front of Richie. 

“Don’t call me that, and sit still.”

Eddie pressed the disinfectant to Richie’s lower lip harder than was entirely necessary, just to get one last dose of payback. Richie hissed but stayed put. 

“Christ Richie, you’re an even bigger baby than I am, it’s not that deep of a cut.” 

Richie slapped Eddie’s hand away but there was nothing behind it so Eddie simply tried again and caught Richie’s chin between his thumb and finger. 

It wouldn’t need stitches or even closure strips, but Richie always was a bit more sensitive without the rest of their group around. Eddie wondered a bit selfishly if Richie was that way around anyone else, or just Eddie. He swiped at Richie’s lip with the cotton pad one more time, realizing he was bordering on fussy. 

“You gonna kiss it better?”

To add insult to injury, Richie punctuated with an exaggerated  _ mwah _ . Eddie pushed his chin away and tried to choke his blush down. 

“Shut up Richie.”

Richie reached up and touched his bottom lip, immediately wincing at the pain. 

“Don’t touch it dumbass, it’s gonna get infected,” Eddie scolded. 

It was quiet for a moment, both boys still sitting in the center of Eddie’s bedroom floor, leaning back on their hands. Richie was unsurprisingly the first to break the silence. 

“So what was that all about?”

“What was  _ what _ all about, Rich?

“Do you normally listen to music loud enough for the entire town or--”

Eddies traced circles on the rug beneath him. 

“Not really, just in a good mood I guess,” Eddie shrugged. 

“Good mood? Dude, we were almost eaten by a fucking circus clown like,  _ literally _ this morning. Your mom start feeding you amnesia pills or something?”

Richie rocked forward and tapped Eddie’s forehead to emphasize his point. Now it was Eddie’s turn to smack Richie’s hand away. 

“No! Just--cut it  _ out _ Richie,” Eddie fought to keep his smile from his voice when Richie tousled his hair, because he should be annoyed but he was smiling like an idiot and his cheeks were warm. 

Richie was smiling too now, even laughing. Eddie didn’t know why Richie’s laugh always calmed him down without fail, maybe because if Richie was laughing then it meant everything would be alright. 

“Can’t stay pissed at me for too long, right Eddie? 

Both of Richie’s hands were in Eddie’s hair now, musing it and trying to spike it up. He pantomimed licking his palm as if he was going to use his own spit to get Eddie’s hair to stick up. Their shared laughter filled the room almost as well as the music had earlier, alongside some well meant name calling and the occasional snort from Richie. When both boys managed to calm down enough, they sat side by side against Eddie’s bed. 

“Alright Eds, what could have possibly happened between being dragged through shit water and right now that had you doing whatever you call the weird fuckin’ way you flailed your arms around like that?

“Dancing?”   
  


“You call it dancing, I call it a very small monkey having a seizure.” 

“Fuck you, I’m not  _ that  _ much smaller than you,” Eddie grumbled. 

Richie put a bent elbow on Eddie’s head, “Keep tellin’ yourself that little buddy.” 

Eddie pushed the arm off and pushed Richie’s shoulder with his own. 

“Whatever Richie, don’t worry about it--just in a good mood is all. Happy that I’m not currently being digested by a scary ass demon clown I guess.” 

It was quiet again, but this time Eddie was the one to speak first. 

“So, what did you do when everyone left? Didn’t see where you went.” 

Richie pulled his knees up to his chest, Eddie knew it was a defense but he didn’t mention it. He felt Richie’s shoulder brush against him when he shrugged. 

“Just kinda left, nothing special.” 

Eddie let the lie sit in the air for a moment.

“That’s cool. I walked home, even though I had my bike. Took the backroads so I could have as much time away from home as possible.”

If Richie was catching on he wasn’t saying anything. 

“It was hot so I decided to walk where there was shade, past the kissing bridge.” 

Eddie kept his eyes forward but he heard Richie’s breathing hitch and stop for a moment. He was deathly still next to Eddie and still refused to speak. Eddie didn’t want to put his best friend on the spot like this, he wanted more than anything to ignore it and hope that everything would work itself out but he had to know for certain if there was something to hope for. 

“Richie, whose initials did you carve on that bridge?” 

This silence stung Eddie’s eyes, in a second he wished he could take the question back, blame it on a joke or the traumatic morning they’d both had. Richie stood up with a start and adjusted his glasses without looking at Eddie. 

“I have to go.” 

He kept his head down the entire time he moved toward Eddie’s bedroom door. When Eddie made to grab for his wrist, Richie pulled away like he’d been burned. 

“ _ Don’t  _ touch me, Eddie.” 

“Hey, Richie it’s alri--”

He finally turned to face Eddie with watery eyes. 

“Is it? Is it really alright Eddie? Gonna tell me you’re not disgusted by me, that you still want to be my friend after this,” Richie spat back. 

Eddie left his hand hovering between them but he couldn’t find the words he wanted to say. 

“That’s what I thought. Sorry you had to see that, have a nice life Eddie.” 

Richie turned again to leave. 

“You are so fucking stupid, Richie.” 

Richie spun around to face Eddie and opened his mouth, probably ready to spout off about how much of an asshole Eddie was, how much of a pussy he was, and blah, blah,  _ blah _ . 

“Didn’t even put two and two together, huh trashmouth? Still don’t know why I was so annoyingly happy just a minute ago?”

Richie looked helplessly lost and Eddie thought to himself that for a boy at the top of his grade, his best friend was the biggest dumbass there was. 

“Oh, get a clue Tozier.” 

Before he could respond, Eddie reached up on his toes and planted a messy kiss to what was supposed to be Richie’s lips but most definitely landed closer to the side of his mouth. The entire thing knocked Richie’s glasses askew and left Eddie’s lips buzzing with how hard they’d collided. He knew it was far from perfect but he hoped it got the point across. And if the dopey look on Richie’s stupid face said anything, Eddie decided it had done just that. He reached a trembling hand up to the spot where Eddie had landed the somewhat kiss and looked back to Eddie. 

“You  _ like me _ ?” 

Eddie smiled and Richie mirrored him. 

“You like me!” 

Richie practically sang.

“Eddie Kaspbrak has a big, fat crush on The World Famous Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier!”

Eddie laughed and shushed the gangly boy that circled him, “Wanna yell that a little louder? I don’t think people in the next town over heard you.” 

“Sorry Eddie, just excited for you.”

“Excited for me?”

“Duh, you just kissed the handsomest man in all of Derry,” Richie boasted, holding his own shirt lapels with a dignified lift of his chin. 

Eddie rolled his eyes with nothing but fondness for his friend still parading around the room like he’d won king for a day. 

“I’m gonna have to kiss you again just so you’ll shut up,” Eddie mumbled under his breath.

Richie stopped in front of Eddie and waggled his eyebrows, “That a promise Eds?” 

This time Eddie reached up to place a gentle kiss on Richie’s cheek and when he pulled back the genuine smile on Richie’s face made his cheeks warm again. Both of them shyed and looked anywhere in the room but each other.    
  


“Hey Richie?”

“Yeah Eddie?”

Eddie grabbed Richie’s hand and looked up to the familiar face he’d known for so long, that stupid, handsome face that meant so much more to him now. 

“It’s a promise.” 

**Author's Note:**

> sal, light of my life, this one's for you. I promise young love and I DELIVER! 
> 
> (eddie loves whitney houston and ya'll can pry that out of my cold, dead hands.)


End file.
